


A Minute in Heaven

by Hipster_Cicero (King_Scar)



Series: Under the Same Stars [2]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Historical Hetalia, M/M, Originally Posted Elsewhere, World War I
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-01-26 06:34:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 16,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12551340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/King_Scar/pseuds/Hipster_Cicero
Summary: Before 1936, I was alone.Russia was in a state of chaos after the Bolshevik takeover. Lenin was gaining power at a frightening rate. Outside of Russia, the world was at war with itself. After Archduke Ferdinand's assassination, Europe was plunged into turmoil. Everything was going insane.I wasn't alone in the familial sense. Although my mother died giving birth to my younger sister and my father was killed in Petrograd, I still had my sisters. Katyushka was my older sister. She treated me with a maternal gentleness; in fact, it was she who made me my scarf.Natalia was my younger sister. She was very attached to me, and some might've called it obsessive, but I didn't blame her. When she was three, I had fallen very ill, and I almost didn't make it. Katyushka soon got over my near death, but since Natalia was so young, her mind never fully recovered.But even with my sisters, I was still alone. I was always trying to find some way for us to scrape by, which made me spend most waking hours away from home. The friendships I had were shaky, at best. Whenever I tried to talk to anyone, they would push me out of their ways, thinking I was another street boy.Before 1936, I was alone.





	1. Preface

It's a story that everyone remembers. 

World War Two was one of the biggest events in history. It saw ruthless leaders and risen nations, fallen empires and futures changed. It saw genocides, vicious battles, and the course of the entire human race remade. 

But no one remembers how it happened. 

No one really remembers just how WWII was won or lost. People just have this vague idea of what really happened behind the curtain, of what led to the Allies and the Axis. No one remembers. 

And that is why this story is being told. 

Seven people from across the globe, each with an incredible story. It may seem unbelievable, but it happened. 

I should know. I was there. 

My name is Ivan Braginsky, and this is how WWII was won.


	2. Chapter One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The start of something beautiful.

**The Boy in the Brown Jacket**

\---

_December 7, 1917_

Before 1936, I was alone. 

Russia was in a state of chaos after the Bolshevik takeover at Petrograd. Vladimir Lenin was gaining power at a frightening rate. Outside of Russia, the world was at war with itself. After Archduke Ferdinand's assassination, Europe was plunged into turmoil. Everything was going insane. 

I wasn't alone in the familial sense. Although my mother died giving birth to my younger sister, Natalia, and my father was one of the ones killed in Petrograd, I still had my sisters. Katyushka was my older sister. She treated me with a maternal gentleness; in fact, it was she who made my scarf, which I still wear to this day. 

Natalia was my younger sister. She was very attached to me, and some might've called it obsessive, but I didn't blame her. When she was three, I had fallen very ill, and I almost didn't make it. Katyushka soon got over my near death, but since Natalia was so young, her mind never fully recovered. 

But even with my sisters, I was still alone. I was always trying to find some way for us to scrape by, which led me to spend most of my waking hours away from home. I had very few friends, and the friendships I had were shaky, at best. Whenever I tried to talk to anyone, they would ignore me or push me out of their ways, thinking I was just another street boy. 

Before 1936, I was alone. 

\+ + + + +

I met the boy as I was coming home. 

I had decided to take a different route home that night, as the route which I usually took was having some sort of construction done to it. The new route took me past a more secluded area, where most of the buildings were relatively empty. I'd assumed that there would be no one there. 

As I passed by one of the larger buildings, though, I heard a strange, mechanical clinking noise, like moving gears. I quickly realized that the noise wasn't coming from within the building, but behind it. Despite my better judgement, I went to investigate the source of the sound. 

I didn't see anything strange at first. The area looked almost like a junkyard, so there was no reason for me to suspect anything dangerous. It was likely just metal falling. 

However, when I turned to leave, a second, far more human noise joined in. It was exhausted breathing, like whoever was there was trying to lift something very heavy. 

A moment later, someone tumbled down from the metal heap and landed at my feet. 

I was quite surprised to see him, to say the least, and I wondered how I had missed him before. He couldn't have been older than I was. I guessed that he was around Natalia's age. He was rather tan, and I could see through the grease on his face that his hair was bright blonde. He was wearing an oddly fancy looking suit and a brown bomber jacket. 

I looked down at him as he coughed up dust. When he finally noticed me, he said something I understood to be a swear and clambered to his feet. His eyes were oddly squinted, like he couldn't see anything very well. 

I looked back down and noticed a pair of glasses at my feet. I figured that they belonged to the boy, so I picked them up and handed them to him.  He dusted them off with his jacket's sleeve and put them on. 

"Ah," he sighed, "thank yo- no, wait, what was the word? _Spasibo_? _Spasibo_! I think..."

I could tell by his voice that he was American, yet his Russian wasn't that bad. It was actually quite good for it not being his native language. 

"It is fine," I said with a smile. "I speak English."

The boy nodded and dusted himself off. 

"Heh, sorry about that," he said. "I was just-"

"It is fine," I repeated. 

The boy continued to smile at me. With his glasses on, I could see that his eyes were sky blue. 

"I'm Alfred," he finally said. "Alfred F. Jones." He held out his hand, and I shook it. 

"Ivan Braginsky," I replied. "What brings you here?"

"Long story," Alfred said as he turned back to the metal heap. "A story involving a promise to Dad, a bet with my brother, and a much needed pit stop."

"You flew here?" I asked. 

"Yeah," Alfred said nonchalantly. "Old girl needed a few parts fixed up, so I had to land earlier than I'd wanted. Oh well, better an earlier landing than a crash landing, right?"

Alfred laughed to himself before climbing back up the heap. His laugh was strangely cheerful. It had been a long time since I'd heard anything like it. 

"Do you have a place to stay?" I asked. 

"Er... Not really," Alfred admitted. "I've been sleeping in my plane."

I didn't know why I felt sorry for him. Maybe it was his innocent enthusiasm. 

"I can take you to my home," I offered. "It is not very big, but it can give you some shelter."

Alfred's eyes lit up, and a flush of pink spread to the tips of his ears. 

"N-No, I'll be fine," Alfred said. "I mean, we've only just met. I don't wanna be that guy, you know?"

"I insist," I said. "You are too young to be out here alone."

Alfred stopped, seemingly deep in thought. 

"You sure?" he asked. 

" _Da_ ," I said. "Yes."

Alfred gave an excited whoop and jumped down from the metal heap, landing on his feet this time. I chuckled at his childish excitement. 

"This way," I said. 

I turned away from the heap and started for my home. Alfred followed me with a wide smile on his face. 

There was something in his smile that I couldn't quite put a finger on. I didn't quite know what to think of Alfred yet, but his smile was so trusting. 

_Maybe, I thought, this one isn't so bad._

_Maybe he can be my friend._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since this is my first Hetalia fanfic, forgive me if the characters are a bit ooc! Any historical inaccuracies would be nice to fix, so let me know if any of those are in there. 
> 
> Amō vos!
> 
> ~Hipster Cicero


	3. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred has an unusual yet charming tradition, which Ivan finds intriguing.

**Talking to the Moon**

_Maybe he could be my friend._

...

I quickly found out that Alfred was very talkative. 

On the walk back home, Alfred talked almost nonstop about what life was like outside of Russia. He spoke of how America didn't want to join in the Great War, of how Germany was attacking foreign ships, of how Archduke Ferdinand was assassinated. I was pleasantly surprised by how much he knew. 

I almost didn't want to bring him to my house, but I had promised him shelter, so I didn't want to go back on my promise. 

My home wasn't very much. It was once a lavish mansion, but after my father's death, it began to fall apart. Now, it was just a skeleton of what it had once been. 

Alfred's eyes bulged when he saw it. I thought for a moment that he was disappointed, but I didn't expect him to say, "Dude! Your place is huge!"

I was thankful that the night hid the flush of pink in my cheeks. 

"You're really letting me stay here?" Alfred queried. 

" _Da_ ," I nodded. 

Alfred practically flew past me as he bounded up to the door. I opened the door for him and let him go in first. 

"Whoa," Alfred murmured. "It's even bigger on the inside!"

Shaking my head, I smiled and called out, " _Katyushka_! _Natalia_! _Ya doma_!"

"I'm home," I heard Alfred whisper. 

I shut the door behind Alfred and guided him towards the main hall. As I looked down at him, I heard him whispering phrases in Russian over and over, a calculating expression on his face. 

Katyushka entered the main hall and greeted me with a warm, " _Privet_ , Ivan!" As I was about to reply, she noticed Alfred and jumped back in alarm. 

"Ah, sorry," I said. "Alfred, meet my older sister, Katyushka. Katyushka, meet my... friend, Alfred."

"Pleased to meet you," Alfred said, holding out his hand. Katyushka seemed wary at first, but she soon smiled and shook Alfred's hand. 

"I'm glad to meet you, too," Katyushka said cheerfully. 

"Alfred here needs some shelter until he can fix his plane," I explained. 

"Ivan offered to let me stay here," Alfred butted in. "It's really nice of him to do that!"

He's not scared of me at all, I thought. Why? 

"I can take you to a room," I said. "You can sleep there until your plane is fixed."

"Sounds good," Alfred grinned. "Lead the way!"

I gestured for Alfred to follow me down one of the staircases. When I reached the first step, Alfred sped past me and bolted up the stairs. Amused, I led him down the second floor hallway. 

"That room there was a bedroom," I said as we passed a room with a collapsed doorway. "But, since it's blocked off, I'll let you stay in here."

I stopped in front of a door and pushed it open. It was my mother's old room, which I'd moved into after my room collapsed. Alfred eagerly ran inside, but when he saw the faded photos of me and my sisters when we were younger, it must've clicked in his head. 

"This is your room, isn't it?" Alfred guessed. 

"My father didn't add many bedrooms," I said. "Most of these rooms are offices, libraries, places like that." I paused, then said, "You can make yourself comfortable. I need to go speak with my sisters."

Alfred turned to me, his mouth hanging open, before he gulped and said, "Th-Thank you."

Ignoring the sinking feeling in my stomach, I nodded once and headed downstairs. 

I was greeted by Natalia holding a blood stained knife. I was startled, but then I remembered that she had decided to help Katyushka with cooking tonight. 

"Who was that?" Natalia blurted out. "That boy."

"He's-"

"Natalia! Watch what you're doing with that!"

Katyushka came from the kitchen and snatched the knife from Natalia's hand. Natalia glowered at her before repeating, "Who was that?"

"He's from America," I said. "He was flying over Russia when he needed to stop to repair his plane."

"I don't trust him, Ivan," Natalia said bluntly. "He could be an American spy. Why else would he be flying over here?"

"He said that America didn't want to join the war," I said. "Why would he be a spy?"

"He just seems a bit suspicious," Katyushka said. 

"He is alone," I replied. "No one else is with him. I trust him to not try anything."

Katyushka gave me a worried glance, while Natalia continued to glare. Finally, Katyushka shook her head and walked back to the kitchen. 

"Come, Natalia," she said. Natalia huffed, crossed her arms, and followed Katyushka. 

When I went back upstairs, I was greeted by hearing a small murmuring, followed by what sounded like a light scratching. 

"Day 34 of my flight," the voice said. "It's Day 3 in Russia. _Liberty Belle_ has a few parts left to replace, and I'll need to stock up on fuel and food before I take off for my leg to England."

It was Alfred. I cautiously looked into my bedroom to see him sitting cross-legged on my bed and staring at the gibbous moon from my window, then looking back down at his lap and talking again. 

"I met this guy earlier today," Alfred continued. "His name's Ivan, and he let me stay at his place! It's huge, you wouldn't believe me unless you saw it for yourself!"

I moved closer to Alfred, curious as to what exactly he was doing. 

"Ivan's a cool guy," Alfred said. "He's really tall, taller than Pops, and he wears this big coat and scarf. He smiles all the time, kinda like Mattie."

"Talking to the moon, are we?"

Alfred nearly jumped out of his skin as he heard me. His eyes were wide, his breath fast, but he soon calmed down. 

"Shi- uh, I mean, shoot! Sorry! You-"

"Did I scare you?" I asked. Alfred laughed. 

"Of course not!" he said proudly. "Heroes don't get scared." I cocked an eyebrow. 

"Oh, you're a hero," I said with a smile. 

"Yep," Alfred grinned. Then, his face fell slightly, and he said, "I hope."

For some reason, seeing him sad made me feel guilty, so I changed the subject. 

"What are you doing?" I asked. 

"Writing in my flight log," Alfred said, smiling again. "I sometimes think aloud.

"It is getting dark out," I noticed. "Maybe we should get some sleep."

"You're right," Alfred said, stifling a yawn. He quickly jumped off of the bed and spread his bomber jacket on the floor. 

"What are you doing?" I asked. 

"Getting some sleep," Alfred said happily. 

" _Nyet_ , _nyet_ , you are not sleeping on the floor," I said. "This is Russia. It is cold."

Alfred started getting rather pink in the face. 

"Y-You can keep your bed," he said. "I kick in my sleep."

I could tell it was a lie, but I humored him and said, "As you wish."

I slid off my jacket, hung it on the edge of the bed, and climbed beneath the covers. They were thin, but I was accustomed to the chill. 

"G'night, Ivan," Alfred said. 

"Goodnight, Alfred," I responded. Turning my back to him, I fell asleep, letting the events of the day settle in my mind. 

_He isn't so bad after all._

_I was right._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments, constructive criticism, and kudos are always welcome. 
> 
> Amō vos! 
> 
> ~Hipster Cicero


	4. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred teaches Ivan that life can be good - if you live it.

**Kasha and Family History**

_I was right._

...

I woke up feeling unusually warm. 

When I opened my eyes, I saw a large, brown something draped over my side. I rolled over to see Alfred laying there, shivering slightly. It took me a second to realize that the big brown something was his jacket. 

I wasn't sure why, but I felt strange seeing Alfred in my bed. My sisters and I sometimes huddled together in this fashion when it got very cold, so this should've been no different. I just assumed that it was because it was another man. 

I didn't want to disturb Alfred, so I cautiously slid out of bed and moved to the closet to get changed. I didn't have the biggest wardrobe, but that was fine by me. 

When I turned around, I saw that Alfred had stirred slightly, but as soon as I noticed him, he pulled his jacket over his face and stayed perfectly still. I watched for a minute, confused, then put on my jacket. As I left the room, I smiled and shook my head before closing the door. 

Downstairs, Katyushka was doling out portions of that morning's breakfast, kasha, while Natalia was finishing up with the dishes. I began preparing some coffee, as I needed the energy. I was sure to make a little more than usual, for I didn't know how Alfred might react to vodka. 

Alfred still hadn't come downstairs by the time breakfast was prepared, so I went upstairs to wake him. I was about halfway to my bedroom when Alfred came out, looking disheveled and pale. 

"Good morning, Alfred," I said with a smile. "Did you sleep well?"

"You were right," Alfred said. "It got cold."

"This is Russia," I said. "And winter, no less. What did you expect?"

Alfred gave a weak laugh and yawned widely. 

"Come," I said. "Breakfast is ready."

At the mention of food, Alfred seemed to perk up a little more. He moved with a renewed vigor as I guided him to the dining room. 

When we got to the dining room, I got the coffee and poured it into each glass, giving Alfred a bit extra, since he seemed the most tired. He didn't eat just yet, like he was waiting for a signal. 

I started eating, and Katyushka and Natalia soon joined in. Alfred watched us in turn, like he wanted to see how to properly eat kasha. Then, he started eating as well. I subconsciously hoped that he liked it, and it certainly seemed that he did, judging by how fast he was eating. 

"So, how did you get here?" Katyushka asked. "It's such a great distance to go."

Alfred looked up from eating and said, "I started in Delaware, my home state, and flew to California for my first stop. After California, I landed in Tokyo, which I think is how Liberty Belle - that's my plane - got so worn out. I was supposed to go from Tokyo to Beijing to Poland, but Belle started to shut down, so I landed here."

"If I may," I began, "why exactly are you flying so far?"

Alfred's smile became wistful, like he was suddenly overcome with nostalgia. 

"Dad," he said. "Dad always had a thing for exploring. When he was younger, he'd go by ship all over the world, trying to hit as many countries as possible."

Alfred's smile dimmed, however, when he said, "He fell in love with this woman in Virginia, Elizabeth, and soon, she was pregnant with me. Not long after she gave birth, she left both me and Dad behind. Dad... well, he stopped exploring after that. He couldn't do it. He wanted me to have a good life. He settled down in Delaware, and I grew up listening to his stories of how he'd travelled the world and such."

The entire table was quiet as Alfred spoke. Even Natalia seemed to soften up. 

"So," Alfred went on, "I promised him that I'd finish what he began. Of course, Mattie didn't think I'd be able to do it, so we made a bet. If I flew all around the world, then he'd have to try and sail all around the world like Dad. If I failed, then I'd have to try sailing the world."

"Who is Mattie?" Natalia asked. 

"He's my brother," Alfred replied. 

"I thought Elizabeth only had you," Katyushka said. 

"She did," Alfred said. "I guess I should explain. Dad met this French guy on his voyage, a guy called Francis. They hated each other at first, but then, they were able to tolerate each other. Francis had a wife, Jeanne, but she died in childbirth. Dad offered to help take care of the kid, and Francis agreed. After Dad moved to Delaware, Francis came with him. I grew up thinking that the kid, Matthew, was my real brother, and even though we aren't, I still consider him a brother. Heck, I started calling Francis Pops because he felt like another Dad."

Katyushka let out a soft, " _Aww_ ," and I agreed with her. It was quite adorable, Alfred and Matthew's relationship. 

"How'd you guys end up here?" Alfred suddenly asked, turning the question onto us. "I mean, you three seem to have a pretty good relationship."

I glanced warily over to Katyushka and Natalia. They looked back, unmoving, so I decided to speak up. 

"We're all we have," I began. "This mansion was owned by our father, Peter, who was very rich, as he worked as a high up government official. After the Bolsheviks took control of Petrograd, our father was shot and killed. Our mother, Catherine, tried to take care of me and Katyushka, but since she was pregnant, Katyushka and I began working to support ourselves. Eventually, Natalia was born, but something went wrong with the birth, and our mother died. Katyushka took on several jobs. I quit mine so that I could care for Natalia. I fell very sick when Natalia was three, so Katyushka had to work twice as hard. But, I got better, and, as such, got back to work."

I paused to take a drink, but Alfred cut in, asking, "Why do you talk about that so naturally? All that crap you went through, that's bad for anyone!"

I turned to him, surprised by his question. 

"It is a part of life," I simply stated. "Bad times always happen."

"But it doesn't have to be that way," Alfred insisted. "Life isn't all about bad things. Good things do happen! It's up to us to make the most of those things, Ivan!"

Alfred was on his feet with excitement, looking around wildly as he spoke. 

"You've got to explore," Alfred said. "You've got to go beyond just working all day! You've got to be your own person! Be the hero!"

By the time he was finished, Alfred was smiling so widely that it looked like he was incapable of disappointment. His blue eyes shone with warmth and life and a desire to see all the beauty that the world could offer. 

Alfred noticed that he was the only one speaking, so he quickly sat back down and finished his kasha, blushing to the roots of his hair. 

"Sorry about that," he said softly. 

"Don't be," I said. "Have some seconds if you want." Alfred obliged. 

We continued eating and talking until it was well past 9:00. Alfred's outburst, though, stuck in my mind. I'd never seen anyone so young with that level of enthusiasm. 

_He decided to be his own person, and look how happy he is_ , I thought. _Maybe I should try to reach beyond my comfort zone_. 

_Maybe he's right._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah, this was really more of a backstory chapter than anything. I kinda like how it turned out. 
> 
> As always, if there are any inaccuracies, especially with the Russian etiquette, let me know, and I'll be sure to get them fixed. 
> 
> Amō vos! 
> 
> ~Hipster Cicero


	5. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred might be smarter than he looks, but he sometimes forgets to think things through.

**Fixing Planes and Planning Ahead**

_Maybe he's right_. 

...

My day went by rather smoothly. 

Alfred stayed at home, offering to help Katyushka and Natalia with cleaning up, while I went to work. It wasn't easy - I repaired any kind of technology or machinery - but it was fun, and larger machines or bigger breaks paid well. 

I decided to take the detour home again, wondering if I'd find Alfred by the junkyard again. The clanking of metal confirmed my suspicions. Sure enough, there was Alfred, dragging parts out of the metal heap with his bare hands. 

" _Privet_ , Alfred!" I called out to him. 

Alfred must not have heard me coming, because he gave a loud shout and tumbled down from the metal heap again. 

"We've _really_ gotta stop meeting like this," Alfred groaned. I handed him his glasses, which he wiped off and put back on. 

"Ah, _spasibo_ ," Alfred sighed with relief. "Am I saying that correctly?"

" _Da_ ," I replied. Alfred nodded quickly. 

"What are you looking for?" I asked, wondering why Alfred would search for airplane parts in a junkyard, of all places. 

"Honestly?" Alfred said. "I'm really just looking for some scrap metal. _Belle_ 's fuselage needs some fixing up. I'm trying to reinforce it before my next leg."

"I would expect that they might be worn out," I said, "considering that you flew over the Pacific Ocean without stopping, _da_?"

"True," Alfred said as he began to scale the heap again. "But hey, _you_ try making repairs like that in midair. I'm not risking that again."

I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes. 

"Well, maybe you should have made some stops," I said, raising an eyebrow. "Then, you would not need to go to such drastic measures."

"And risk losing my way, touching down on uncharted territory?" Alfred retorted. "What, you think I'm some kind of moron?"

I didn't say what I wanted to tell him. We stared each other down, neither one of us wanting to give in, until we both started to laugh. 

"Americans," I murmured. 

"Crazy old man," Alfred shot back. 

"I am not ," I insisted. I wasn't.

"Whatever," Alfred said playfully. "Come on. You're strong, right? Gimme a hand with this piece."

Alfred tugged on a large, thick sheet of scrap metal, and eventually managed to pry it free. It didn't look like he needed much help, as it looked rather lightweight with how fast he was pulling it, but I took one end anyways. 

"Where are you taking this?" I asked. 

"Just trust me," Alfred smirked. He shifted his grip on the metal, and we soon left the junkyard behind. 

After a good ten minutes of hiking, Alfred stopped in front of a very large, derelict building. I was puzzled at first, but I assumed that this was where Alfred had landed _Liberty Belle_. 

I was right. 

The building had been almost completely hollowed out, and with the roof caving in so badly that there was hardly any roof left, it was more than enough room for a plane to land. That explained why Alfred had set _Liberty Belle_ down here. It was quite a charming piece of machinery, a robustly built biplane with the name _Liberty Belle_ painted in brilliant blue and white lettering on the body. The fuselage, especially the top, definitely seemed in need of repair, Alfred was right about that. 

"Thanks for the help!" Alfred smiled. "I'll take it from here."

Alfred heaved the metal onto a larger iron slab with strong cables attached to the corners. The boy clambered up some scaffolding which led to what was left of the second floor, ran to a length of more cable dangling from the ceiling, and tugged with all his might. Only then did I notice that he had somehow set up an ingenious pulley system, designed so he could get anything where he wanted it with the pull of a cable. 

Alfred tied the cable to a pipe sticking from the wall and pulled the metal onto the second floor. He vanished for a moment, only to reappear lugging a gigantic crate of tools. The boy pulled a heavy apron and gloves from the tool crate and put them on. 

"Do you need some help?" I called. 

"That'd be nice," Alfred said, rummaging through the crate. "Hang on."

Alfred untied the cable and carefully lowered it to the ground. I stepped onto the platform, and Alfred raised me onto the second floor. 

"Where did you learn all of this?" I asked. 

"I had a side job working as a mechanic," Alfred explained. "I love cars, and I love fixing 'em up. I just sorta learned from there, I guess. Now, here, I'll show you how it's done."

For the next hour or so, we hammered, welded, drilled, and formed the metal into sturdy plating, perfect for reinforcing _Belle_ 's fuselage. Alfred was, admittedly, very good at this, which caught me a little off guard, but I was able to give him some pointers, which he appreciated. 

When we were finished working, a question suddenly popped up in the forefront of my mind, and I just had to ask it.

"Alfred," I said, "since Europe's currently at war, how are you thinking of passing through Germany without getting shot down?"

Alfred's face fell as he pondered my question. Eventually, he just put his head in one gloved hand, smearing it with oil and rust. 

"Oh no, _how_ could I be so _stupid_? " Alfred chided himself. "There's no way I'll be able to make it over, what was I _thinking_?"

The boy let out an angry sigh and glared down at his newly repaired plane. 

"You could wait," I suggested. "From what I know, Germany looks like it might give in sometime in the next year. Besides, I'm sure that you can find a way to survive here. With your welding skills, we might be able to work together. I work with things like this, as well."

"No," Alfred huffed. "I don't wanna be that big of a problem. I mean, you and your sisters already have it rough enough as it is."

"You are not a burden, Alfred," I said. "You can stay with us."

Alfred gave me a slightly unsure expression. 

"Seriously?" he said. 

"I am very serious," I responded. 

Without warning, Alfred wrapped his arms around me in a bear hug and yelled, "Yesss!! Thank you, thank you, thank you!!" into my ear. I returned the hug, but I noticed that my heart felt like it was beating a bit faster than normal, and it kept getting faster as Alfred tightened his embrace. 

When he finally pulled away, Alfred took one look at my face and giggled, "Dude, you alright? You just went bright red."

"I must just be tired," I lied. "W-We should get home."

"Good point," Alfred agreed while stifling a yawn. We quickly packed up the rest of the tools and headed home.

Katyushka was almost livid when arrived, covered in oil, and made us wash up before we ate. Natalia served borscht for dinner, which Alfred ate gladly. 

After Alfred finished his log entry for that night, we both went to bed, with Alfred having another go at sleeping on the floor. As I lay there, trying to go to sleep, I felt something being draped over me, and I heard the bed creak as Alfred climbed in. He huddled closer to me, and I felt myself smile as I went to sleep. 

_What am I going to do with him?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contrary to popular belief, Alfred is not a brainless idiot. That's why I made him pretty smart. Well, that and the fact that Hima mentioned at one point that Alfred had a collection of cars, so I assumed that he'd have to maintain the darn things. 
> 
> As always, feel free to point out any inaccuracies, and I'll be happy to fix them for you. 
> 
> Amō vos!
> 
> ~Hipster Cicero


	6. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred doesn't let good deeds go unrewarded.

**Even More Repairs**

_What am I going to do with him?_

...

It wasn't long before Alfred found his niche. 

He hadn't joined me at work for the first week, for he wasn't fluent in Russian yet and wanted to be at least conversant before going into the job. I spent that first week teaching him, and he picked up very well. He told me that he was able to learn so quickly because he'd done this before. He'd learned Japanese phrases from a friendly Tokyo man named Kiku, and, in California, a man named Yao Wang had taught him basic Chinese. According to Alfred, if one could learn Mandarin Chinese, one could learn any language. 

Whenever I went to work, Alfred would usually go and fix up _Liberty Belle_. When she - Alfred insisted on calling the plane a girl - was repaired, he had nothing else to do. 

He quickly found something else to occupy him. 

When I came home late one night, I was confused that Katyushka hadn't greeted me at the door. I called for Natalia. Again, there was no response. When I moved to the stairway, I heard very loud noises, like an enormous door creaking incessantly. Suddenly, there was an almighty _CRACK_ , which was followed by cheers from Katyushka and Natalia. 

I rushed upstairs to find Alfred, Katyushka, and Natalia outside my old bedroom, the collapsed one. My sisters were directing Alfred very matter-of-factly, and Alfred was clearing debris with his bare hands. 

"Oh, hey Ivan!" Alfred said with a wave. "I figured I should do something for you, so I'm helping restore this place a bit."

"He's almost finished with this room," Katyushka said jubilantly. "Alfred, that last piece can go."

Alfred grabbed a broken plank of old wood and tugged on it with all his might. After a minute of tugging, the plank gave way, and the remaining debris crumbled away. Katyushka cheered, and Natalia nodded, looking impressed. 

"Whoo, there we go!" Alfred grinned. 

I stared at the now empty doorway. I didn't know why he felt the need to do this. I was also stunned that this young boy had cleared all of this by himself. 

"I... I think you have done enough for tonight," I said. "Do not over work yourself."

"I can go on," Alfred said. "You need anything else?" 

" _Nyet_ ," I said. "Go wash. You need rest."

Alfred obliged. He rose to his feet and went to wash up. 

"Why is he doing this?" I asked. "You aren't forcing him, are you?"

"He seems to think he owes us something," Natalia said, eyebrows raised. "Big sister tried to stop him."

"Er... tried?"

"He's stubborn," Katyushka said plainly. "He kept asking what he could do. Said that, ' _That's what heroes do. They help people_.' He's very fixed on that hero idea, isn't he?"

"He's American," I replied. "That mentality runs through their blood, _da_?"

Neither sister responded. 

I looked at the old doorway. The doorway itself hadn't collapsed, but rather, the ceiling above it had. That area had, despite our father's constant attempts to fix it, always leaked whenever it rained or snowed. The wood eventually rotted so badly that it had collapsed, thankfully while no one was around. 

Now, with the doorway beckoning to me, I reached forward. The knob was cold in my hand. I turned it, and although it was stiff, it complied. With a gentle click, it opened. 

The room smelled musty, like anything old might. The dust smell was even stronger, and I was pulled backwards into my old memories. The first memory I'd ever had was in that room, wrapping around my neck the scarf which Katyushka had knitted for me. I remembered going here when I came home every day, a perfect escape from the dangers that came with the outside world. When it was blocked off, so were all the memories which were made in it. 

"Ivan?"

Katyushka laid a hand on my shoulder. I bowed my head and stepped forward. 

Everything was as I'd remembered it. The bed was neatly made, with the brilliant colors only slightly faded. Shelves of storybooks lined one wall, and I found myself able to remember where each book was placed. I had few playthings, but I didn't need them. I had my parents, and, when they passed, I had my sisters. 

Something caught my eye, a flash of yellow against brown. There, on one wall, was an old painting of a field of beautiful sunflowers. The colors may have dulled, but I never forgot lying on my back as a little boy, mesmerized my the different shades of yellow and blue and brown. The pull at my heart burned with unfamiliar warmth. 

In that moment, I knew but didn't pay attention to the fact that both Katyushka and Natalia had left me to my memories. I just felt happy. 

"Hey, Ivan! I-"

Alfred stopped in the doorway, watching me with curiosity. I didn't move. I almost felt like I couldn't. 

"Are... Are you OK?" Alfred asked. 

" _Da_ ," I said softly. "I am just remembering old things."

"Heh," Alfred said, "I understand _that_ feeling."

I turned away from the painting and faced Alfred. He was standing in the doorway, a towel wrapped around his waist. Although I knew that I shouldn't have, I looked. For how young he was, he was very... well built. 

"I'm gonna do get ready for bed, alright?" Alfred asked. I nodded once, and the boy moved to my mother's room. 

Only after he left did I allow myself a breath. My head felt almost overloaded. 

I laid one hand on the comforter. Dust puffed up from it, but it was still as soft as when I'd last felt it. I decided that I'd sleep in here tonight. 

After patting most of the dust free from the bed and pillows, I slid off my coat, hung it on the edge of the bed, and climbed under the comforter. The warmth was unimaginably welcome, and I was drowsy in less than a minute. 

I was almost asleep when there was a hard knock on the doorway. I opened my eyes to see a pale, shivering Alfred standing there. 

"You mind if I sleep in here?" he asked. 

" _Nyet_ ," I sighed sleepily. 

"It's just that it's really cold in there," Alfred said. "Cold and lonely."

"Russia is like that," I said. 

"I know it's _cold_ ," Alfred said. 

The boy stepped in and draped his jacket over mine. 

"And you're really warm," Alfred murmured. 

"Warm?" I repeated. 

"Yeah," Alfred smiled. "And soft. Like a big Teddy bear."

"I am not _fat_ ," I said.

 _And how do_ you _know I feel soft?_ I wanted to ask. 

"I didn't say that," Alfred said. I could easily hear the smirk on his face. 

"Get some sleep," I ordered. 

"Alright," Alfred said, still smirking. "G'night."

"Goodnight," I said. 

Alfred, curled up in the foetal position, pushed himself against my back. He was freezing, but I could feel him slowly warming up. 

_What's in that mind of his?_ I asked myself. No matter what I tried to imagine, I always came to the same, drowsiness induced conclusion. 

_I don't know._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, yeah, more filler, but I wanted this chapter to emphasize a point. Last chapter focused on the fact that America is no moron. This one is based on a very common misconception that Russia is just cruel. He's not, or at least, not intentionally. He's human. He has feelings too. 
> 
> Also, he's not fat. He's big boned. 
> 
> Amō vos! 
> 
> ~Hipster Cicero


	7. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas in the Braginski Mansion takes a turn when Ivan makes an important realization.

**The Wonder of Brightness**

_I don't know._

...

Alfred joined me at work a few days later. My boss was understandably obstinate when Alfred asked to be hired, but with a little persuasion on my part, he conceded. Alfred was quick to prove himself after repairing a broken down car which had been given up as a lost cause. It was enough for him to start making money. 

\+ + + + +

It was around the third week of December when Alfred's behavior changed. 

It started with the letters. Every night, after finishing his log entries, he'd write three letters, one for Dad, one for Pops, and one for Matthew, and address them all to different places. He'd get up very early the next day to send them. I guessed that they were to reassure his family and let them know that he was, in fact, not dead. 

Alfred then started taking extensive detours to get home. By the time he'd get home, dinner would be almost over. He'd always be exhausted, with purple bags under his eyes and sweat on his face, despite it being a very, very cold winter. Natalia was constantly on her guard around him, giving him almost murderous glares any chance she got. Even Katyushka was doubting him more and more. 

_What if he really is an American spy?_ I asked myself. _What if Natalia was right all along?_

I had no way to confirm or deny the thoughts in my head. They drove me nearly mad with worry, and they were all I could think as I went to sleep each night. 

\+ + + + +

On the Tuesday of the last full week of December, I woke up to find that Alfred was gone. 

I was quickly on my guard. I looked at the edge of my bed to see that there was no bomber jacket draped over my coat. I didn't have to look to know that Alfred wasn't lying next to me; I couldn't feel his warmth. I checked in the washroom, but he wasn't there, either. Nor was he in my mother's bedroom. 

_Is he trying to trick me?_ I asked myself. _Is this all some kind of joke?_

As I was going back to my bedroom, I heard a soft humming from downstairs. The voice was unmistakably Alfred's. As quietly as I could, I crept downstairs into the main hall and to the living room. 

I couldn't believe my own eyes. The living room was always a huge, imposing sort of place, with its baroque style and lavish décor. Now, however, it had been transformed into a miniature winter wonderland. Strips of shredded metal had been woven into delicate tinsel, which had been draped high above the room. Handmade carvings of leaping deer and snowflakes hung at the windows. A small yet dignified fir tree decorated with ornaments and more tinsel stood in the corner of the room. Beneath it were several colorful packages with little bows on top.

And there, kneeling next to a crackling fireplace, was Alfred, smiling like the sun. 

"Good morning, Ivan!" Alfred beamed. "Merry Christmas!"

I gazed all around the newly decorated room, stunned. It didn't take me long to realize that this was what he'd been doing. He'd been preparing for today, not spying or plotting anything nefarious. 

"Ya like it?" Alfred asked. "Took me a while. I didn't want to blow the surprise!"

" _S-Spasibo_ ," I replied, "but what is all this for?"

"Christmas," Alfred said. "Did you forget or something?"

" _N-Nyet_ ," I said. "It's just that I don't..."

It clicked in Alfred's head before I could finish my sentence. The look on his face was that of a man who'd just witnessed a murder. 

" _You don't know what Christmas is?!_ " Alfred shouted. Before I could argue that I did know but just didn't celebrate it, he leapt to his feet, grabbed my wrist, and dragged me over to the tree. 

"Ivan," Alfred said in a falsely somber tone, "Christmas is, without a doubt, the greatest holiday of them all, if I do say so myself. It seems that-"

"Alfred-"

"-it is my job to properly educate you-"

" _Alfred_ -"

"-on why Christmas is held in such high esteem around the-"

" _I know what Christmas is, Alfred_."

Alfred stopped, his ears turning pink. I stared at him until he looked down. 

"R-Right," he stammered. "You just don't celebrate it."

A mischievous grin turned up the corners of his lips. 

"I guess it's time to change that," he said. 

Footsteps down the stairway heralded the arrival of Katyushka and Natalia. Katyushka saw the decorations and seemed to go into a mystified trance, spinning around the room like a ballerina. Natalia's face froze mid-yawn in a comically slack-jawed expression. 

"Alfred has decided to throw us a little Christmas party," I explained while trying my hardest not to laugh at their awed faces. 

"I got you guys each a present, too," Alfred said eagerly. "Come on!"

My sisters rushed over to the tree and sat beside me. All three of us watched as Alfred pulled the first present, a large box wrapped in blue and white paper, from beneath the tree. 

"Katyushka," Alfred began, "after living with Dad for so long, I know a good cup of tea when I taste one. You, my friend, make a _damn_ good cup. I figured you should know that, so I got you this."

Alfred passed the box to Katyushka. She gingerly took it and cautiously unwrapped it. Peering inside, she gasped and revealed a porcelain teapot painted with delicate blue blossoms. 

"Alfred, you shouldn't have!" Katyushka cried out. "Thank you!"

She placed the box to her side and wrapped Alfred in a gentle hug. Alfred gladly hugged her back before pulling away. 

"Natalia," Alfred said as he grabbed a small yet heavy box, "I keep seeing you reading those books on ghosts and stuff, but I don't think you've read these yet."

He handed the package to Natalia, who tore into it very quickly. She reached into the box and pulled out three different books, each one on ghosts from all over the world. Natalia gaped at the books, looked at Alfred with wonder, then opened the first book and started to read. 

"I didn't forget you, Ivan," Alfred said reassuringly. "The first thing is a bit of a no-brainer. I know you love this stuff."

Alfred reached under the tree and pulled out a bottle of my favorite vodka. I took the bottle eagerly, prompting Alfred to shake his head and smirk. 

"This one's a little more personal," Alfred said as he took out the smallest package yet. "I know how you like listening to my flight log entries, and I remembered how much you loved sunflowers, so... yeah. I got you this."

With trembling hands, Alfred passed me the package. I took it and slowly removed the red, white, and blue wrapping paper. 

It was a small, leather-bound journal. I flicked through the pages, some lined, some blank, then turned the book to the front cover. Emblazoned on the front were two entwined sunflowers. 

"Did you make this?" I asked. 

"I-It wasn't much, eh heh," Alfred said timidly. 

He made this for me, I realized. He made this for me. 

There was only one thing I could think of saying. 

"Thank you."

\+ + + + +

We stayed up very late, letting Alfred show us how Americans celebrated Christmas. I found many of their Christmas customs amusing, especially the idea of flying reindeer, for some reason. 

After the little party, we went to bed, exhausted yet happy. 

I entered my room to find Alfred standing by the window, watching as snowflakes cascaded over the moonlight. His childlike rapture was beautiful in its own way. 

"I'm glad you like it," Alfred said. "The journal."

"It is very lovely," I said honestly as I took off my coat and got into bed. I saw him turn toward me, smiling with limitless joy. 

It was then that I realized why I was so drawn to Alfred. 

He was bright. 

I didn't mean bright, as in intelligence, although he certainly was smart. No, he was bright like the sunflowers in the old painting. His hair was gold and yellow like the petals, his jacket the warm brown of the flower's center, and his eyes - those impossibly beautiful eyes - were as blue as the perfect sky. 

In a time so bleak and lifeless, Alfred was the bright light that signified that things could get better. 

"G'night, Ivan," Alfred sighed as he climbed in bed next to me. "Merry Christmas."

"Goodnight, Alfred," I responded. 

_Goodnight, moy dorogoy._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is a long chapter, but gaaaahh I needed to write this! 
> 
> Don't worry, there will be mistletoe in the future. *wink wink*
> 
> Amō vos! 
> 
> ~Hipster Cicero


	8. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ivan finally admits his emotions, and the result is better than expected.

**A Whisper at Midnight**

_Goodnight, moy dorogoy._

...

I couldn't see Alfred in the same, friendly manner in which I had when we'd first met. As much as I tried, my mind would always wander back to that Christmas night. 

That night worried me to no end. I began to ask myself questions. 

_Should I tell him how I feel?_

_How would he react?_

_How would Natalia and Katyushka react?_

In every question I asked myself, I never brought up what might happen when he left. I'd grown so used to him that I couldn't see him gone. 

Then, just before the year's end, I had an idea. Alfred had given me something by which I would remember him, so I decided that I would return the favor. 

At midnight on December 30, I slid out of bed, put on my coat, and crept out of the bedroom.

Downstairs, the Christmas decorations were still up, along with decorations for the next day's festival. I had no time to admire them. I had other matters on my mind. 

As I stepped out into the night, I picked up my pace, shifting from a walk into a run. I took the detour to work, but I wasn't going to work. This was far more important. 

I bypassed the junkyard and hurried toward the giant building where _Liberty Belle_ was resting. The refuse metal from _Belle_ 's fuselage lay in a pile in the corner of the room. I took a sheet of it and dropped it onto the metal platform. Then, I climbed up the scaffolding, ran to the cable, untied it, and pulled the metal up to the second floor. 

After getting it onto the second floor, I reached into the tool crate and grabbed the gloves and apron. I hurriedly put them on, then stared down at the old metal. 

"Alright," I told myself. "Let's get to work."

\+ + + + +

"Ivan, wake up!"

I felt someone pushing my shoulder vigorously, waking me up rather rudely. 

"Wake up! Wake up! There's presents downstairs again!"

When I opened my eyes, Alfred was leaning over me with excited eyes. Then, I remembered why he was so excited, and I grinned slightly. 

"It seems that someone has paid us a visit, _da_?" I said. 

After Alfred got off the bed, I slid on my coat and started for the living room. Alfred had already vanished. 

Katyushka and Natalia were already sitting by the tree when I reached the living room. The Christmas decorations were now joined by miniscule, blue and silver glass snowflakes and delicate white lights encircling the room. It looked like the living room was covered in frost. 

"It's like a second Christmas," Alfred said. "What's the occasion?"

"It's the end of the year," Katyushka said. "This is when _Ded Moroz_ and his granddaughter, _Snegurochka_ , come to deliver gifts."

"It seems like he got something for each of us," I said, grinning at Alfred's wide eyed look. I reached beneath the tree and pulled out the first present, a large, flat box wrapped in blue. 

"This is for Natalia," I said. Natalia took the box, tore it open, and pulled out a handcrafted, velvet purple dress. 

"Do you like it?" I asked. 

Natalia stared at it for a long while, then sprang to her feet and rushed off to her room, saying, "I'm getting changed!" as she left. 

"She likes it," Alfred smirked. 

"Here, Katyushka," I said as I revealed a smaller box. Katyushka pulled open the box, and her face lit up as she revealed a book of old lullabies which we used to listen to as children. 

"I found the book Mother would sing to us from," I said. "I remembered how you loved them."

Katyushka's eyes welled up, and she pulled me into the tightest hug she could muster. She was smiling through the happy tears in her eyes. 

" _Hmhmm_ ," Natalia grunted from behind us. She crossed her arms, and Katyushka and pulled apart. 

We continued to give each other our gifts for the rest of that morning. Katyushka had knitted me a brand new scarf, just in case anything ever happened to mine, and she gave Natalia a set of blue and silver jewelry, which Natalia was quick to wear. Natalia gave me a book on ancient European mythology and a bottle of vodka, which I opened right then and there. She also gave Katyushka a blue velvet headband with a neat little bow on top. Katyushka wore it proudly. 

Throughout that entire time, Alfred stayed there, making jokes and joining in with the celebration. He didn't seem at all upset that he hadn't gotten anything. 

Well.. yet. 

\+ + + + +

I waited until Alfred was finished writing his letters. 

He sealed them all and prepared to climb into bed, but I grabbed his wrist and said, "Do not sleep just yet. I have something for you."

Alfred looked puzzled. I reached into my coat and pulled out a package as small as a saucer. 

"It is not much," I said, "but I do hope you enjoy it."

Alfred seemed to analyze the look on my face as he gingerly peeled away the white wrapping paper. I turned my gaze to the floor, waiting for his reaction. 

It was a miniature _Liberty Belle_ , created from the plane's own metal. I'd tried to get as many details as possible right, down to the name on the side. Carved into the back were two things: the date _December 31, 1917_ , and the words, " _Be the hero!_ "

Alfred's eyes sparkled with wonder. He looked up at me, mouth agape, and asked, "You made this?"

I couldn't find the words to say, so I nodded. 

The smile he gave me made my heart almost beat out of my chest. Without a word, he hugged me so tightly that for a minute, I thought that he might accidentally suffocate me. I could feel the warmth and happiness radiating from Alfred like sunlight. 

When we finally pulled away, I could see Alfred's smile, genuine and adoring in the moonlight. My eyes flicked upward, and he must've caught that, as he followed my line of sight. Only then did he see that we were standing below the mistletoe which I had hung last night. I'd remembered the tradition surrounding it, so I'd decided to take a chance, to step out of my comfort zone. 

I could feel my face growing bright red as I'd wondered if I'd gone too far. Alfred saw my face and smirked. 

"For the man who saved my life."

He leaned up to reach me, and I felt him gently press his lips to mine. 

The air was alive with an electric energy which I had never felt before. The warmth within Alfred was fire, and I could feel myself being burned. The chills down my spine were gone, and in their place were the sparks that flew between us. 

We didn't want to pull away, but the need for air forced us apart. Alfred smiled up at me, and before I knew it, I was bringing him in for another kiss. 

" _Dammit_ , I love you, Ivan," Alfred moaned softly. 

I knew that he didn't need me to respond. He already knew what I was thinking. 

_Ya lyublyu tebya, my sunflower._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa, you guys are giving this fic tons of love!
> 
> Thanks for the kudos and bookmarks! Oh, and don't be afraid to offer constructive criticism. I take that stuff seriously. 
> 
> Amō vos!
> 
> ~Hipster Cicero


	9. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> War will always find a way in.

**Letters from Canada**

_Ya lyublyu tebya, my sunflower._

...

Something within me changed that night. 

I hadn't known Alfred for long - just a little under a month - but he'd grown on me. I normally would've found anyone with that kind of overly hyper personality to be highly irritating, but not Alfred. 

Yes, he could be troublesome, and yes, he could act rather strangely. I still don't know how he knew I felt soft, and I can't understand his logic for not landing on islands between California and Tokyo. Yet for all his quirks, Alfred was amazing. He was hard working and diligent. He was much smarter than his appearance and attitude suggested. His heart was so kind and forgiving, despite anything that life could throw at him. 

He was _alive._

I don't know why he kissed me that night, but I'm not going to complain. I was happy. 

However, the outside world can always find its way in. 

The Great War was still being waged outside of Russia. Every day, Alfred would rush to get the mail and rifle through it for letters. Every day turned up nothing. 

Then, on March 28, Alfred received a letter from Mattie. Ecstatic, Alfred tore open the envelope when we got home. 

It read:

_Dear Alfred,_

_I've been getting your letters, and I want to thank you for keeping me updated. I was beginning to wonder if you crashed at sea!_

_Everything's going fine here in Ottawa, but that's not why I'm writing this so quickly. I don't know if you know this, but Germany just pushed through the Hindenburg Line on the 21st. I got a telegram that said Dad and Pops were in that area._

_I haven't heard anything else yet. But I think that's good. As far as I know, they're not injured or dead, otherwise I'd have known by now. I think they're still OK. Still, there's no way of being sure. We'll just have to keep praying that God will keep them safe._

_Say hello to the Braginskys for me. I'll see you again!_

_Your brother,  
                                 Matthew_

Alfred's eyes clouded over with fear. Both his parents were trapped, and there were no hints as to their condition. 

" _Oh my God_..." Alfred gasped. His breath hitched in his throat, the letter trembled in his hand, and tears fell from his eyes. 

"Alfred..."

There was no consoling him. I could see that already. The news was too much of a shock. 

Hanging his head, Alfred trudged on towards home, saying not a word. 

His condition only got worse. Nothing I tried seemed to help. He wouldn't eat. He hardly slept. He stopped showing up to work. He even abandoned caring for _Liberty Belle_. He seemed to have left his soul behind, becoming a lifeless body in his everyday life. 

Then, he got a letter which tore apart his heart. 

It was on April 3 when he received his second letter from Mattie. Alfred's eyes started shining again. I prayed that whatever the letter contained was good news. Alfred anxiously opened the envelope and removed the letter. 

But when I read the tear-stained letter, I felt my heart shatter. 

_Alfred,_

_I finally got news about the war._

_It's Dad. He and a bunch of his men were gassed by German forces. I don't know if he's alive or dead or what. All I know is that he was gassed and he's currently undergoing treatment._

_I'm so sorry, Alfred. I'll let you know if anything changes._

_Your brother,  
                           Matthew_

Alfred's face was cold and expressionless.  It was almost as if he was expecting this to happen. 

In the middle of the road, Alfred dropped to his knees and cried into his hands. 

\+ + + + +

I returned home from work that day to find Alfred sitting on the edge of the bed facing the window, his back turned toward me. He was writing in his flight log, but he wasn't talking at all. He was just scribbling angrily about who knows what. 

"Alfred?" I said. 

Alfred froze, then went back to writing. 

"Alfred?" I repeated. This time, Alfred stopped writing and didn't continue. 

"What the _hell_ do you want?" Alfred growled. 

I stepped back, taken completely by surprise at Alfred's harsh tone. 

"I..." His words left me almost shell shocked. 

"Go away," Alfred hissed. 

I didn't budge. Alfred looked at me and sneered furiously. 

"I said, _go away_ ," Alfred snarled. 

"No," I responded. I wasn't going to leave, and Alfred wouldn't make me. 

I half expected Alfred to scream or throw something at me. Instead, he snapped his flight log shut and stormed past me and out of the room. I tried to follow him, but he was already gone. 

"The hell was that all about?" Natalia asked as I headed back upstairs. Katyushka gave her a reprimanding look. 

"Ivan?" Katyushka asked. "Will you go after him?"

I didn't reply. I walked past them, went into my bedroom, and shut the door. 

I wasn't looking for him because I knew where he'd go. I knew exactly where to look. 

\+ + + + +

I woke up an hour earlier than I usually would've the next morning. Katyushka and Natalia were still asleep. I tried not to make a sound as I left, closing the front door so softly that it made hardly any sound at all. 

I quickly passed down the detour to the abandoned building and headed inside. _Liberty Belle_ was still there, so Alfred hadn't been stupid and flown off last night. There was a ladder propped up against her fuselage, so I climbed it and looked inside. 

Alfred was curled up in the pilot's seat, shaking with both the cold and his own crying. It was a pitiful sight, and I knew that Alfred was far gone. 

" _Alfred_ ," I said softly as I moved toward the pilot's seat. 

Alfred looked up at me, sniffling and rubbing his red eyes. He leaned out of the pilot's seat and wrapped his arms around me for dear life. All I could hear were his incoherent mutterings as he sobbed into my scarf. 

_I am sorry, Alfred_ , I wanted to say. _I am here for you._

_I will always be here for you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figured that now would be a great time to slap you back into reality. 
> 
> No, I feel no shame. 
> 
> Amō vos! 
> 
> ~Hipster Cicero


	10. Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's always light at the end of even the darkest tunnels.

**Deliverance and a Letter from France**

_I will always be here for you._

...

Alfred's mind was slowly fading. 

I stayed by his side as often as I could. I wanted him to know that I was there for him. He seemed to appreciate it, but he wasn't getting better. 

He wasn't as bright as he'd once been. His skin was pallid. His eyes dulled. He never washed the oil out of his hair. Even when he slept next to me, his skin was as cold as ice. 

I knew that cold. I had felt it when I went to my father's funeral. I'd felt it after Mother gave birth to Natalia. I felt it all around me every day. I knew what was wrong with Alfred. 

His soul was dying.

\+ + + + +

It was on April 17 when Alfred got his third letter from Matthew. 

He didn't open it for the longest time. I kept trying to convince him to open it, but he refused. 

"Alfred," I told him as I stood in the bedroom doorway. "Just sitting there will not make things better, _da_?"

Alfred turned away from me even more. 

"He's dead," Alfred grunted. "Dad's dead, and Mattie sent me this letter to tell me that."

I turned the journal Alfred had given me in my hands over and over, trying to come up with something to say. 

"I do not think so," I said. "What is that old saying... third time's the charm?"

Alfred snorted a response. 

"So?" Alfred said. 

"So," I responded, "I think that this letter will not be so bad. Please, Alfred, open it."

Alfred glanced down at the letter in his hands. I put a hand on his shoulder and said, "Please, if anything, for me."

Alfred huffed and rolled his eyes. 

"I've got nothing to lose now," Alfred said. "I might as well."

I smiled as Alfred finally opened the letter. 

I quickly noticed that this letter was much thicker than the others, several pages long, easily. Alfred didn't look too concerned. When he actually took a look at the letter, however, his entire expression transformed. His eyes boggled. His jaw fell open. He pressed the paper to his face and read it in disbelief. 

" _Oh my God_ ," he rasped. 

Then, with a wild shout of joy, Alfred jumped off the bed and forced the letter into my hands. 

"Read it!" Alfred begged. "Read it read it read it!"

I knew that whatever was in the letter must've been fantastic news. I unfolded the paper and read it. 

_To my dear son Alfred,_

_I have no idea how far you are on your voyage, so I'm sending this to Matthew in the hopes that he might know your whereabouts and deliver this to you safely._

_I am very happy to report that Britain has emerged the victor against the Germans near Saint-Quentin. I thought that the Germans might win, but due to our superior British defenses and the Fifth Army's fortitude, our enemy was forced to back down._

_Unfortunately, I do think that my tour of duty may be over now. My men near the front lines were gassed, and I took a great deal of it. Fortunately, your uncle Seán managed to shoot the bastards and get me to safety._

_Unfortunately, the gas damaged my eyes rather badly. I'm not blind, thank God, but I'll have to wear glasses for the rest of my life._

_Apart from my eyes, I'm not permanently injured. I'll have quite the cough for the next few days, but I can feel myself recovering._

_Oh, and if you're wondering about the frog, he's alright. He played dead after a bullet went past his ear, but he took about five Germans down before he escaped. He's still as agitating as ever. (As I'm writing, the damn git's giving me his lovey eyes, despite the fact that we're both currently in a bloody army hospital. He could at least have the decency to wait until we leave.)_

_I'll write as often as I can, Alfred. Let me know how you're coming on your voyage._

_Cheerio,  
Dad_

"What did I say, Alfred?" I asked. 

"You were right," he admitted. "Oh, am I glad to be wrong for once!"

He laughed that exuberant laugh I loved so much and hugged me as tightly as he could. 

"He's alive!" Alfred smiled. "He's really alive!"

"I told you that this would bring good news, _da_?" I said. 

Alfred didn't respond. He just continued smiling that smile that made the sun seem dull. 

With that warm smile, Alfred kissed me on the nose and giggled like a child who'd just said a swear word for the first time without his parents knowing. 

"Happy, are we?" I jested. 

"I've got a lot of reasons to be happy," Alfred said. "I'm making a trip around the world. I've got a roof over my head, a job, my parents and brother are both OK... What about you? Why are you so happy?"

Looking down at Alfred, I cupped his chin with one hand and tilted his face upward. 

"There's you," I said. "I have you."

We came together in another kiss, gentle as dawn and filled with adoration. Alfred smiled giddily into the kiss and laughed yet again, and I wondered how he was able to laugh so much yet make every laugh sound better than the last. 

With every kiss, we grew slightly more rough, more passionate. I could feel Alfred's strength now as he moved his hands from my jaw to my shoulders to my chest. Seeing his strength was one thing, but I quickly understood that it was nothing compared to feeling it. 

Alfred pushed me backwards onto the bed. I felt laughter bubbling up from within my chest. I couldn't explain it, but that didn't matter. I loved that feeling, and I loved the one who made me feel that way. 

It was just me and Alfred, and nothing in the world could ruin it. 

" _Ivan_??"

Or so I thought. 

We both froze, Alfred still pinning me to the bed. I slowly turned my head to see a shocked Natalia standing there. Her mouth and eyes were both wide open. I couldn't see Katyushka, but I could very clearly hear her stifling her hysterical giggles. 

Natalia continued staring until she said, "I'll just leave you to it," and backed out of the room. Katyushka followed her, still giggling into her hand. 

"I think we got caught," I said rhetorically. 

"Sorry," Alfred mumbled, his face multiple shades of pink. "I-I shouldn't... I shouldn't have moved on you so quickly like that, I-"

" _Nyet_ , _nyet_ , it is fine, Alfred," I replied. "It was rather enjoyable, actually."

The mischievous little smirk reappeared on his face. He started wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, and I felt my cheeks turn red. 

Then, Alfred laughed once again, and he flopped down onto the bed next to me. I fumbled off my jacket and threw it onto the corner of the bed. When I got comfortable, Alfred wrapped his arms around my midsection and snuggled his face in the crook of my neck. 

"I told you you're soft," Alfred smiled into my neck. 

I didn't say anything in return. I just let the combined warmth of the bed and Alfred lull me to sleep, a final thought playing in my head. 

_I won't leave you behind._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not dead yet. 
> 
> Nor am I Satan. I wasn't going to kill off Arthur. I'm not that evil... I hope. 
> 
> Amō vos! 
> 
> ~Hipster Cicero


	11. Chapter Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Alfred's birthday, and Ivan has no idea what's in for him.

**Another Celebration and Another Letter**

_I won't leave you behind._

...

As kind as she was, Katyushka was relentless with her teasing. 

Although she never brought it up in public or around Natalia, whenever she was alone with me, she'd start giggling and saying something along the lines of, "My little brother's got a crush on Alfred!" I would ask her to stop, but she'd smile and shake her head, tittering. 

"You're a hopeless case, Ivan," she said. "You're helpless!"

As much as I didn't want to agree with her, she was right. I'd always greeted everyone with a kiss, but whenever I greeted Alfred with one, I felt my heart beat a little bit faster. I grew accustomed to Alfred wrapping his arms around me before I went to sleep. I kept noticing how he'd smirk at me when no one was looking, that little smirk that suggested something more. 

Katyushka was right. 

I was helpless. 

\+ + + + +

The day started with Alfred reading another letter. 

Alfred had been in a particularly good mood that day. I'd tried to ask what was up, but he'd shake his head and start humming to himself. 

When he received the letter, the smile that had been on his face for the whole day stretched even wider. He danced his way into my bedroom and hummed a familiar tune to himself. 

"He didn't forget," he whispered as he tore open the envelope. "He didn't forget, he didn't forget!"

"Forget what?" I asked, poking my head into the bedroom. 

"You'll see," Alfred grinned as he read the letter. 

I stood there for a good five minutes before Alfred, still grinning, handed me the letter and sat back on the bed. 

Still confused, I read the letter as Alfred had asked me. 

_Dear Alfred,_

_I've got a lot of good news in this letter, so forgive me if it's a bit long._

_First off, there's the most obvious news: Happy Birthday! God, you were, what, nineteen when you started your flight?_

_Anyways, I actually hosted a little birthday party back home here in Ottawa for you. I invited all the neighbors, and one of them, Gilbert, actually baked a cake! He said he brought the recipe with him from Germany when he moved here five years earlier, and that he got it from his brother, who still lives in Germany. (It was some darn good cake, too! German chocolate. I'll have to try and make it myself.)_

_That brings me to my other big piece of good news. America has entered the war! I think it's good because with extra firepower, the Allies should be able to force the Centrals back under control pretty quickly. I won't give away much, just in case this letter is intercepted or mixed up, but I'll say that much._

_Oh, and one more thing. I'm thinking about asking Gilbert out. I don't think Dad and Pops will care, I mean, you've seen them, but I don't know how to ask him... you know, on a date! I was hoping that you might have some advice, you having Ivan and all._

_Anyways, I've written enough. Your presents are waiting for you here in Ottawa, and I'll be sure to make that cake for you. Tell the Braginskys I said hi!_

_Your brother,  
Matthew_

Everything clicked after I read the letter. His unusual level of excitement, that song, Mattie not forgetting something; it had all been because today was his birthday. 

"You're twenty?" I asked him. "And you went on this flight at that age?"

"Well, twenty one, now," Alfred explained. "I may or may not have wasted a lot of time in California and Japan."

That explains his youthfulness, I assumed. 

"I... I am very sorry I did not know," I said, "or else I would have gotten you something."

Alfred jumped off of the bed and almost sauntered over to me. He wore that distinctive smirk that suggested more than he revealed. 

"I've got all I need," he said. He tugged lightly on my scarf and pressed a kiss to my cheek. 

"See ya later," Alfred sang as he let go of my scarf and slipped into the main hall. 

Still smirking and dancing with every step, Alfred walked out of the front door and started on down the road towards work, leaving me standing in the doorway with my cheeks burning and mind reeling. 

\+ + + + +

I found focusing on work rather difficult. 

Alfred continued shooting me smirks and sly winks, making me feel very confused and flustered. I'm still not sure if my boss noticed Alfred's behavior, but he kept asking me about my health. I just told him that I'd had a terrible nightmare and couldn't stop thinking about it. 

Dinner was a similarly awkward affair. I'd try to talk to Alfred, but I'd continue to get flustered with the looks he gave me. Natalia seemed irritated, and Katyushka kept shaking her head and tittering at us. 

After dinner, I went upstairs to go to bed, hoping that sleep would make me feel better. 

I should've remembered that Alfred had other ideas. 

Alfred was spread languidly on his side of the bed. As soon as he saw me, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and got to his feet. 

"What did you mean earlier?" I asked as I walked toward him. "I've got all I need?"

"I meant what I said," Alfred said. "You remember how much you enjoyed what happened in April?"

My cheeks blushed vivid pink as I understood what he was insinuating. 

"Alfred, be reasonable," I said. "You are twenty one, are you sure you-"

"So?" Alfred interjected. "I managed to fly halfway across the world and not get killed. I know what I'm doing."

I had to admit, he did have a maturity that I admired. He was capable of making his own decisions. 

Alfred sauntered up to me and fixed me with his confident blue eyes. I held my ground, but all fortitude I had fell away when he pulled on my scarf and said, "I've got all I need right here."

When he pressed his lips to mine, I felt all resolve melt as something else took over. A flame began to burn within me, and all I wanted was to fan it until it wrapped me in warmth and brightness. 

I felt Alfred's tongue against mine, and my legs nearly gave way beneath me. I was helpless as Alfred pushed me onto the bed with him. I might've been bigger than him, but he was in control now. He managed to slip off my coat without me noticing. I was too focused on him, Alfred, my sunflower, the only thing I cared about. 

Alfred slid his fingers beneath my scarf. I nodded with compliance, and he quickly undid my scarf. Only then did he see why I always keep my scarf on: a network of smooth, pink scars that encircled my throat. 

"Ivan..." Alfred whispered. "What happened?"

"Winter," I blurted out. "M-Mr. Winter. He was a good man, a former teacher of mine, but one day, he just snapped and..."

Alfred's face went soft, and he ran one finger down my scars. 

"You shouldn't hide them, Ivan," Alfred smiled. "They reveal just how strong you really are."

Alfred then moved his lips onto my neck, and I let out a shamelessly needy moan. Taking advantage of my weakness, Alfred continued to kiss and suck on my neck. 

I reached up and ran my hand through Alfred's hair. I suddenly heard Alfred gasp and saw him go weak. I fussed with his hair and noticed that whenever I brushed his cowlick, he would gasp and turn darker red. Summoning up my strength, I flipped him onto the bed, pinned him down, and lightly pulled on his cowlick. 

Jackpot. 

Alfred's voice went several octaves higher as he let out a wanton, helpless cry. When I moved my lips down his neck, he shuddered and gasped for air. Then, I tugged harder on Alfred's cowlick and watched as Alfred turned beet red and moan my name as loud as he could. 

"I'm right here, Alfred," I said. "All for you."

With his breath coming in fervent bursts, Alfred opened his eyes and gave me a look of suppressed power.

"C'mon," Alfred said in a surprisingly low, husky voice. "Take me."

I could clearly hear that it was a challenge, and it was one I was willing to accept. 

"You're mine now, Alfred," I rasped.

_You are all mine._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know. I know. I'm a freaking tease. 
> 
> Anyways, I really hope you liked this chapter. Let me know if you did, and I'll be sure to update this story - and my other ones - as often as possible. 
> 
> Amō vos! 
> 
> ~Hipster Cicero


	12. Chapter Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ivan takes Alfred's words to heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: homophobic slurs, brief violence

**Being the Hero**

_You are all mine._

...

One of the hardest things to do in life is to face one's fears. 

I know that well enough. One of my biggest fears when I was younger wasn't the loss of my parents. I knew early on that people died. It wasn't my own death, or the death of my sisters. 

It was that the man who gave me my scars would come back. 

Even when he and I were on good terms, Mr. Winter wasn't entirely right in his head. After my father's death at Petrograd, something within him snapped. He never was the same man I had once admired. 

Ever since the incident which left me with my scars, I'd feared him more than anything. But when Alfred came into my life, I began to fear Mr. Winter for a different reason. Now, I feared what he might do to Alfred, an American far from home. 

I tried to think that no such harm would ever befall Alfred at Mr. Winter's hands. 

That was before Alfred went missing. 

\+ + + + +

It was on a Saturday in October that Mr. Winter returned. 

Alfred decided to take the detour to _Liberty Belle_ to make sure that none of her inner workings needed more repairs, especially since it was getting much colder now. I thought that nothing would happen. He'd done this many times before. 

When Alfred didn't come home for dinner, I started to get worried. With his metabolism, Alfred was almost always hungry. My worries increased when he didn't return when it was time to sleep. 

I decided that enough was enough. After Natalia and Katyushka fell asleep, I crept out of our house and ran towards where _Liberty Belle_ had landed. 

When I rounded the corner that led to the building, I was greeted with the sounds of fighting and cries for help. I quickly recognized Alfred, but the other voice was evading my memory. 

But it didn't take me long to recognize the manic eyes of Mr. Winter. 

"Ivan!" Alfred yelled, trying to look like he wasn't about to get killed. "Great timing, am I- _mmph_!"

Mr. Winter clapped his hand down on Alfred's mouth. Alfred bit down on Mr. Winter's fingers, but the man wasn't moving. 

"Mr. Winter," I said with disbelief. 

" _Ah, Braginsky_!" Mr. Winter sneered in Russian. " _We meet again. Been a long time, hasn't it_?"

" _What business do you have with Alfred_?" I asked. 

" _I know what you've been doing with him, Braginsky_ ," Mr. Winter hissed. " _It's disgusting_."

" _What Alfred and I do is no concern of yours_ ," I said, smiling. 

" _Don't give me that damned smile_ ," Mr. Winter snarled. " _You know he's not from around here, yet you're giving him a safe place in your dad's old home. That's already bad enough, but this kid? Not just an American, but an American faggot as well. And don't try to deny it. You two practically reek of sex._ " Mr. Winter shook his head, then snorted, " _Shouldn't have expected much from a Braginsky_."

"What's he saying?" Alfred asked, twisting himself away from Mr. Winter's grip. 

" _Shut up_!" Mr. Winter snapped. 

I kept my face as calm as possible, but this man was getting on one too many nerves. 

"I may be gay, that is true," I said, "and I may be housing a gay American, but neither of us are the kind of coward that would do _this_ to a child."

Unraveling my scarf as I spoke, I lifted my head and revealed the scars on my neck. I felt no shame in showing Mr. Winter what he'd done.

"Oh, snap!" Alfred whispered. Mr. Winter was too alarmed to respond. 

" _Now leave_ ," I ordered. " _Let Alfred go and get out of my sight_."

" _No_ ," Mr. Winter retorted. " _Actually, you know what? I'll leave if your little sex toy here leaves. Get him out_."

" _I do not compromise_ ," I said with a smile. " _Leave him be_."

" _What'll you do about it_?" Mr. Winter taunted. 

I looked at Alfred, expecting to see fear in his eyes. Instead, he was serene, as if he knew what was coming next. 

Suddenly, Alfred bit down as hard as he could on Mr. Winter's fingers. There was a stomach churning crunch, followed by a scream of pain. Alfred scraped his foot down Mr. Winter's shin and stomped on the man's foot. Mr. Winter fell to the ground, and Alfred tore himself free from his attacker's grip. 

" _Hhhruuuhh_!" Mr. Winter growled. He swung around to find Alfred, but the boy was already climbing the scaffolding like a lizard. 

With Alfred gone, Mr. Winter turned his attention towards me. I punched him in the face and ran past him. Up on the second floor, Alfred had untied the cable for the pulley system. I jumped onto the metal slab, and Alfred lifted me to safety. 

I had barely made it onto solid ground when I heard the enraged snorting of a madman. Mr. Winter had climbed up _Liberty Belle_ 's fuselage and was now charging at Alfred.

I backed up close to the wall, hoping to keep Alfred behind me. I felt my leg bump into the tool crate. I looked down at the crate and grabbed the first thing I saw: a long, steel pipe Alfred had scavenged from the junkyard. 

Mr. Winter stopped. He saw the pipe in my hand and started to reassess his situation. 

Feeling the cold steel, I remembered something that Alfred had said a while back. 

" _That's what heroes do. They help people_."

Alfred needed my help. 

It was time to be the hero. 

I started towards Mr. Winter, gripping the pipe in both hands like a war club. Mr. Winter looked genuinely alarmed. Helpless, like a wolf in a trap. 

" _Kolkolkolkol_..."

I wasn't scared of him. I was stronger than this. I was no child. 

" _Braginsky_ ," Mr. Winter warned. 

" _Kolkolkolkol_..."

I lunged at Mr. Winter and swung the pipe as hard as I could. The metal connected with Mr. Winter's face. Blood splattered from his now broken nose and jaw. The man howled at the top of his lungs and collapsed. 

I stood over him and put my foot on his chest. 

" _If you try anything like this again_ ," I cooed, " _I will break you in half, yes_?"

Mr. Winter nodded, his eyes wild with horror. 

" _Leave_ ," I demanded. " _Now_."

Mr. Winter clambered to his feet. With an expression of fury, he climbed back down _Liberty Belle_ and limped out of sight. 

The adrenaline faded from my veins. I wrapped my scarf around my neck, suddenly aware of the cold. 

"Whoa," Alfred whispered. "That was crazy."

I turned my attention to the boy. 

"Are you alright?" I asked. "Did he hurt you?"

"Not much," Alfred said with a weak chuckle. "Just a few bruises. I think you taught him a lesson there, huh?"

"Yes, I believe I have," I said. 

_I'm not scared anymore_ , I realized. I felt free, like some prison had fallen away from my mind. 

"I gotta say," Alfred began, "you sound _so_ sexy when you speak in Russian."

I looked back at him in disbelief. 

"You nearly got murdered," I stated, "and you are talking about sex."

Alfred shrugged innocently. I smiled and shook my head. 

"Come on," I said. "You need sleep."

"Alright," Alfred agreed. "Let's go home."

\+ + + + +

As we lay in bed that night, the scent of last night's passion still lingering in the air, I realized just how strong I had felt fighting Mr. Winter. It was a familiar strength, but from where it came, I couldn't remember. 

All I knew was that Alfred and I were both fine. 

I had sent Mr. Winter an important message. 

_I'm not afraid to be the hero._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *inserts fight scene because I love those*
> 
> Amō vos! 
> 
> ~Hipster Cicero


	13. Chapter Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything eventually comes to an end.

_I am not afraid to be the hero._

...

Alfred continued to get updates from Matthew and Arthur about the war. 

Matthew was right in his guess. He kept reporting German defeats, and with each Allied victory, Alfred seemed to grow brighter and brighter.

Then, on November 21, 1918, everything was over. 

\+ + + + +

"IVAN! NAT! KATYUSHKA! YOU GOTTA READ THIS!"

I heard Alfred yelling from all the way down in the living room. Katyushka was the first to react, running upstairs as fast as she could. I followed behind her, and Natalia was soon running behind me. 

When we got up to the bedroom, Alfred was jumping up and down, one hand over his mouth, the other clutching a letter. Alfred saw us and shoved the letter into my hands. 

_Mon Petit Alfie,_

_I have been receiving your letters, but I have been so preoccupied with combat that I have not had a chance to reply! I am happy to answer you on this day, of all days._

_As I am sure Arthur has told you, we are both alive and doing just fine. Arthur had to be discharged earlier than he planned because of his eyes, but I stayed behind to fight._

_Matthew told you, if I am not mistaken, about America entering the war. It just so happens that I was privileged enough to fight alongside many of them in the Meuse-Argonne offensive. They certainly share your resilience, that is very clear!_

_But it was in battle against German forces when something fantastic happened. Believe me when I say that this is the start of a new era for the world._

_Germany has fallen._

_They have officially signed an armistice, which has led to their complete and total loss. I believe I can safely say that the war is over._

_I will be returning home with Arthur as soon as possible. I assure you, with the war over, it will be safe for you to continue your voyage._

_I cannot wait to see you, Mattie, and Arthur again! Then, we may live together as a family in a peaceful world once more._

_I miss you and love you,_

_Papa Francis_

My jaw fell open in awe. Germany, _giving up_? This wasn't a joke, right? 

"The war's over!" Alfred hollered, taking me and my sisters in a huge hug. "THE WAR'S OVER!!"

The atmosphere was surreal. We were out of our minds with joy, reveling in the return of peace to the world. Natalia ran downstairs to get the vodka Alfred had gotten me for Christmas, and Katyushka started dancing around the room and singing at the top of her lungs. 

But amid the celebration, something hit me hard. It was something I'd denied for so long, but could no longer ignore. 

Alfred would have to go. 

He had family. He had his bet with Matthew, the promise to Arthur. He had a life of his own to live. 

And there was nothing I could do about it. 

\+ + + + +

"Alfred?"

The boy looked up from his flight log and gave me a quizzical expression. 

"What's up, big guy?" he asked. 

I looked down and fussed with my scarf. 

"If you do not mind," I said, "there is somewhere I would like to take you."

Alfred cocked an eyebrow and asked, "You alright there, Ivan?"

" _Da_ , _da_ , I am fine," I lied. "Please. It is... It is very special to me. I would like you to see it."

Alfred went quiet, seemingly weighing his options in his head. After a minute, he said, "Alright then. Let's go!"

I sighed with relief and started for the front door. Alfred pulled on his jacket, and together, we stepped out into the snow covered night. 

\+ + + + +

"Are we there yet? This is pretty far from home."

I led Alfred by the hand through increasingly decrepit streets, the sky fading from blue to purple above us. 

"Almost," I said. "Ah, right here."

I broke into a run past several abandoned buildings. Alfred followed, yelling, "Hey! Wait up!"

Then, as sudden and brilliant as triumph, it unfolded before us. 

It was a vast plain, void of any outside lights or buildings. There was just the snow, the grass beneath it - and the gigantic sky above us, a dark purple and blue canvas with explosions of stars all across its face. 

"Here we are," I announced. 

Alfred was literally starstruck. His blue eyes tried to capture as much of the sky as possible within their depths. The boy danced around in wonder, gaping at everything he saw. 

"It's so beautiful," Alfred gasped. 

"I often came here as a little child," I explained. "Here, I could rest my mind, find some peace from everything else."

"Does anyone else know about this place?" Alfred asked. 

" _Nyet_ ," I said. "It is only you and I who know."

Alfred fell backwards into the snow. I sat next to him, still looking up. 

The brightness I saw in Alfred so long ago revealed itself again, and it was greater than ever before. The stars threw their rays over his face, making his hair seem spun from gold. All the light in the world seemed trapped within his blue eyes, two little galaxies into which I'd so often before looked. 

I didn't want to let Alfred go. 

"Thank you," Alfred said. "For bringing me here."

"I thought you might like it," I said, "with how much you like the sky."

Alfred turned to me, his face brimming with peace. 

"I won't forget you, if that's what you're thinking," Alfred said, somehow managing to take the words right from my mind. 

"I just wanted this to be how you remembered your time in Russia," I admitted. "Not for the bad things, but for this."

"Ivan," Alfred said, "do you think we'll see each other again?"

My heart fell within my chest. I didn't want to answer him honestly. 

"I do not know yet," I lied. "What do you think?"

Alfred looked to the stars and let that confident smile of his spread across his lips. 

"Honestly?" Alfred said. "I think... I think that as long as we're under the same stars, we'll always have a chance to see each other again."

Alfred smiled back at me, and I felt my heart melt. He was so strong hearted, so optimistic, everything I wanted to be. 

"I love you," I said. "Really. I do."

"I know," Alfred grinned. He raised his eyebrow at me in that cheeky, suggestive little way. I mimicked his look, wiggling my eyebrows in an exaggerated manner, and we both started to laugh like children. 

It took a while until we regained our breath. Alfred gazed at me with a smile so warm that it seemed to drive away the cold. 

"My little sunflower," I whispered. 

We leaned in together for a kiss gentle and soft. I lifted Alfred's head up to me, and we kissed again, each kiss more wonderful than the last. There was no carnal lust that drove us now. There was only love in its purest form, a love that didn't fade or die away, but stayed long past everything else had left. 

Sitting there beneath the midnight sky painted with stars, kissing the only person I'd ever loved and would ever love, I felt at peace with the world. 

It may have only lasted for a minute, but it was a minute in heaven, a minute that filled my heart with hope. 

_We will see each other again._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boom. Double title drop. 
> 
> As you might've guessed, this fic will be drawing to a close soon. There's not much left, but I hope you enjoy every word. 
> 
> Amō vos! 
> 
> ~Hipster Cicero


	14. Chapter Thirteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything comes to an end.

_We will see each other again._

...

I woke up cold again. 

I had grown so accustomed to Alfred's warmth that I'd almost forgotten was sleeping in cold felt like. Now that I felt it again, the familiarity of it troubled me greatly. 

There was no brown bomber jacket at the edge of the bed. There was no arm wrapped around my torso. There was no, "Rise and shine, big guy," or, "Good morning, Ivan," no kiss on the cheek or shoulders, no finger tracing the paths of my scars around my neck. 

In short, there was no Alfred. 

I changed into some clean clothes, my movements slow and sluggish. I reflexively looked behind me to see if Alfred was in bed. He wasn't. 

He wasn't downstairs, either. Natalia, her nose buried in one of the books Alfred had bought her, appeared uncharacteristically downtrodden. Katyushka was cleaning up the last of the dishes, sipping coffee from a cup from the teaset Alfred had gotten her. 

"You just missed him," Natalia said. "Tipped out the door not five minutes ago."

I hung my head in oppressive guilt. Bypassing the kitchen, I went straight out the front door. Katyushka called out, "Ivan! Wait!" and hurried behind me. Natalia huffed, slapped her book shut, and took up the rear of the little procession. 

"Ivan?" Katyushka asked. "Where are we going?"

I didn't answer. I just continued down the detour to the old building. 

When we came upon the building, everything was eerily silent. I couldn't hear any clanging metal or heavy breathing. I began to fear the worst as I rushed inside. 

_Liberty Belle_ was still there. Her paint had been redone and every inch of her fuselage had been polished until she gleamed a brilliant silver. 

"Didn't think I'd leave without saying goodbye, did you?"

Alfred leaned proudly against _Belle_ 's fuselage, smiling as jubilantly as the day I first met him. 

"I wasn't gonna be that guy, you know?" Alfred said nonchalantly. "I wouldn't leave you hanging."

"This is your plane?" Katyushka gaped. Natalia let out a long whistle. 

"Yep," Alfred crowed. "She's my way home."

Alfred walked over to Katyushka and put a gentle hand on her shoulder. 

"I know you're Ivan's big sister," Alfred said, "but you've treated me like a little brother. And for that, I say thank you. I'm gonna miss you, Kat."

Alfred jumped and wrapped his arms around Katyushka's shoulders in a bear hug. Katyushka returned the hug, clearly trying her hardest not to cry. 

When he finally let go of Katyushka, Alfred made his way over to Natalia. 

"I know we didn't exactly get along at first," Alfred admitted with a chuckle. "You didn't trust me, and you had every reason not to. But you are one tough chick, Nat. I like that about you. You take care of your brother for me. Goodbye, Nat."

Alfred tightly hugged Natalia, who stood there in frozen alarm with her eyes wide open. Eventually, though, she hugged Alfred back, which satisfied the boy. He pulled away from her and came to me. 

"Ivan," Alfred said softly, "you took me in. You took care of me for all my time here. You helped me fix up my plane, you saved me from Mr. Winter, you've... I know I talk a lot about being the hero and all, but I really think you're as good a hero as me. Hell, I'd say you're even better than I am."

Alfred put both hands on my shoulders and said, "We _will_ see each other again. You hear me? We will."

The boy reached into his jacket pocket and revealed something. It was the miniature _Liberty Belle_ I'd welded for him, the words on the back still legible. 

"I'm gonna really miss you," Alfred said. "I love you, my big hero."

Taking a deep breath, Alfred reached up to me and drew me in for one last kiss, beautiful and sad, a hint of finality very clear. 

And then, as soon as we had come together, he was gone. 

I opened my eyes to see him climbing into _Belle_ 's cockpit. He reached down in front of him, pulled out a pair of goggles, and strapped them on. 

"We'll see each other again, Ivan!" Alfred called as _Liberty Belle_ roared to life. "I won't forget you, I promise! And a hero never breaks his promise!"

The plane's propeller sputtered to life. The air around us kicked up a storm of dust and metal scraps. _Liberty Belle_ started out of the building, traveling down the desolate path that led to the main road. 

With a last forlorn whine, _Liberty Belle_ was gone. 

And so was Alfred. 

I stood there, motionless, until I felt Katyushka place a hand on my shoulder and whisper something that I almost didn't hear. 

"Come on, Vanya. Let's go home."

\+ + + + +

That night, as I sat up in bed, I looked out the window into the cold, lifeless night. It was the first night in two years that Alfred hadn't been there with me, and it hurt. 

The fact that he remembered the model _Liberty Belle_ I'd given him was life giving. Maybe, just maybe, I'd find a way to remember him, too. 

Then, I had the perfect idea. 

"Katyushka," I said as I hurried out of the house, "tell Natalia I'll be gone for an hour."

"Where are you going?" Katyushka asked. 

"Back," was the only thing I said as I shut the front door behind me. 

I broke into a run down the back road. Everything blurred around me in a vortex of grays and browns, a variable void of dreariness, until the familiar, kaleidoscopic sky burst into view over me. The comforting starlight against the blue and purple brought memories flooding back, memories of the minute I'd spent with Alfred, and the ideas in my head solidified into something greater. 

I sat cross-legged in the snow and reached into my coat. My fingers brushed against the familiar leather of the book I'd brought with me. 

I pulled out the journal emblazoned with the entwined sunflowers on it. It was just begging for me to use it somehow. 

I took the pen out of the same pocket and flipped the journal open to the first lined page. There, I scrawled the words that would change my life forever. 

_Under the Same Stars  
or  
The Russian Hero + The American Sunflower_

_A Story Told in Dance_

_by  
Ivan Braginsky  
+  
Alfred F. Jones_

There, beneath the stars that had always given me comfort, I began to write my future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus is the last chapter of "A Minute in Heaven."
> 
> There'll be an epilogue soon, don't worry. I won't keep you hanging for long. 
> 
> About the ending: Russia has a strong history with ballet. Even if it was developed in France, Russia has become famous for its incredible dancers and performances. 
> 
> Therefore, I thought that APH Russia/Ivan would enjoy ballet as well, hence him writing the little ballet in the end. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this final chapter, and, as always, if there's something that should be fixed, let me know, and I'll fix it for you. 
> 
> Amō vos! 
> 
> ~Hipster Cicero


	15. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The world still goes on - but the tides are about to turn.

I finished writing my ballet by the beginning of July. 

I dedicated all the time I could to finishing it. Whatever time not spent at work was on the ballet. I designed the stage, drew up the costumes, choreographed every dancer until they moved in ethereal perfection. 

Outside me, Russia was changing. Communism was spreading at a rapid rate, led by Vladimir Lenin. Anything related to the arts was quickly under the rule of the Bolshevik Institute of Artistic Culture, which turned all Russian artwork into a political propaganda poster. 

That's why we left. In 1919, Katyushka, Natalia, and I sold our father's old mansion, packed as much as we could, and emigrated to a new country. 

To America. 

There, I thought I'd just live my life in America. There, I thought that we would live a normal immigrant life. We would find our roles in this new society, and everything would be fine. 

But when Germany signed the Versailles Treaty, it gave rise to another madman, another conflict, another war. 

So why does World War II play such an important part in my story? Why does it matter? 

Because it was the bond I forged with Alfred which kept me alive. The connection between us, a connection formed in what would soon be called World War I, would withstand the trials that this new war would bring. 

For Alfred and I, D-Day began on December 7, 1917, with a chance discovery by a wandering orphan and a boy in a brown jacket. 

For us, the war had already begun, and we would fight until the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here it is! The end of "A Minute in Heaven" has finally come. 
> 
> Whoo, this story was an emotional train ride for me! I don't know how I managed to finish it, but I did somehow. 
> 
> I want to give a huge thank you to everyone who read my story and left kudos/bookmarks. I can't tell you how much that means to my fangirl heart!
> 
> Amō vos!
> 
> ~Hipster Cicero


	16. Teaser for "A Thousand Days in Hell"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story continues...

Before 1936, I was alone again. 

America wasn't my birthplace. I was born and raised in Russia, and I continued to live there with my sisters after our parents had died. In all honesty, I would've never left had it not been for Vladimir Lenin and his Bolshevik Institute of Artistic Culture. 

In America, I found that the immigrant life wasn't nearly as easy as I'd hoped. My sisters and I settled down in a small New York town, where we each found jobs. My older sister, Katyushka, worked as a chef at The Bear and Buck, where she put her culinary expertise to work. My younger sister, Natalia, started out as a journalist, then began writing a very successful mystery/horror novel series.

I concentrated on my ballet. I joined the New York Ballet Theater, and soon, "Under the Same Stars" went into production. Within a few years, it was a fully fledged show. 

But there was one detail I always left out. I never revealed that the story was true, based on my own experiences in Russia, an experience that set my new life in motion. 

Before 1936, I was alone again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's right! A big ol' sequel's headed your way!

**Author's Note:**

> This is by far going to be the longest fanfiction I'll ever write. I just had this idea, and... I love it. I'm running with it. 
> 
> So, I hope you stick around. This is going to get crazy. 
> 
> (BTW, the WWII stuff will be explained in the epilogue. I promise.)
> 
> Amō vos! 
> 
> ~Hipster Cicero


End file.
